


Kokuhaku

by aoishmex



Category: Jrock, LM.C
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoishmex/pseuds/aoishmex
Summary: Kokuhaku=  the act of confessing one’s feelings to another





	Kokuhaku

Aiji had a problem.

His heart beat irregularly. His stomach was filled with butterflies all the time. He was constantly distracted. If he wasn’t talking about music he had nothing to say. He was fidgeting more than usual. His mind went blank often. He was jumpy. All this went on when he was with a certain someone. Yes, Aiji had a big problem.

He was in love.

And he had no idea how to confess.

Aiji had confessed to several girls (some confessions ending in a better result than others). This time, however, he was confessing to another man. Not just _any_ man, either: He was confessing to Maya. Maya, his bubbly, eccentric, out-going bandmate with a specific sweet tooth for lollipops. Maya, who had caught Aiji’s attention since the day they met. Maya, whose silly antics made the guitarist smile in secret. It was Maya who made Aiji nervous, excited, jittery. It was Maya who Aiji wanted to hold in the quiet hours of the night and it was Maya he wanted to know everything about in all levels of intimacy.

Of course, with Maya being the one he wanted, it made confessing his feelings much more difficult and nerve wracking from the get-go for obvious reasons. What would Maya say? What would he think of him? What would happen to their bond, their new band? Aiji had thought of all these consequences many times very thoroughly. He had decided, however, that it would all depend on him confessing first and that was what he needed to focus on.

 _What do I say to him? How do I start? The simplest way is just tell him I like him_ , the guitarist mused, _but this is different… This is Maya. It has to be different so he knows I mean it_. There were many ways people in Japan confessed to each other. The most common was through text but Aiji thought that would be too impersonal—not to mention how often things through text were misconstrued. What about a box of chocolates—or a lollipop—with a note? A love letter? _No; way too cliché_ , the guitarist decided.

In the end, Aiji realized, he would just have to say it, one way or another.

 

Maya blinked at the guitarist in his doorway. “Hey,” the vocalist voiced. “It’s late, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Aiji hesitated. “I need to talk to you.”

The younger man stared in confusion. “Okay,” he managed and moved aside to let the other man inside. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No… thank you.”

The blond glanced at him. “Are you sick?” Aiji shook his head. The two men continued into the living room, the taller gesturing to the couch in invitation. The guitarist stood where he was, rooted and silent, eyes glued to the floor. “Aiji? What’s going on?”

“I… There’s something I want… to tell you,” the elder began.

“Take your time,” the vocalist soothed gently, noticing the other man’s discomfort.

Aiji took a deep breath. “Well, we’ve been together—as a band—for just over a year now… But I think this all started before LM.C was even official…” Maya’s brow creased in confusion but he remained silent. “The truth is…” Aiji said…. and stopped. The vocalist stared, waiting for him to continue. The guitarist fidgeted with his fingers and bit at his lip. He couldn’t bring himself to look the younger man in the eye. The blond was beginning to think the worst—that he had done something wrong and Aiji wanted to leave the band because of it. He was doing his best to remain calm so Aiji could say what he needed to without being rushed. Several long, silent minutes passed. “Screw it,” Aiji growled. “I like you.”

Maya found himself pushed against the nearest wall, hands pinned, a searing kiss unlike any he had felt being pressed to his lips. His breath caught in his lungs. Aiji’s words repeated themselves in his head. The sensation of soft flesh against his lips sent a sweet tingle through his body, sweeter than any candy, and his eyes fluttered shut. Aiji slowly pulled away, releasing Maya’s hands in the process. He looked at the singer in suspended silence. Maya seemed to have trouble breathing. Then, the blond’s brow creased with emotion, his hands coming up to caress the guitarist’s handsome face as he pressed a soft kiss to the older man’s lips, desperately pouring his feelings into the simple act and hoping Aiji would get the message. Even when the kiss was broken he was still unable to speak.

The guitarist stared at him wide-eyed. “You, too…”

The blond nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you to say something for so long,” he admitted with a small laugh. Aiji kissed him before he could say more. They kissed repeatedly, slow and gentle, simply lingering in the feeling. “Is… Is this as far as you planned?” Maya ventured when they pulled apart.

“Why?” the elder quirked. Maya bit his lip, a deep blush rising to his cheeks. “I understand,” Aiji said. He took the vocalist by the hand and pulled him along to the bedroom.

 

 

Maya stumbled out of bed without bothering to look at the clock, throwing on the first shirt he came across among the garments strewn on the floor. The blond made his way to the kitchen for something to eat. When he found nothing was already made the vocalist pulled ingredients out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter. It was only after he had turned the main light on that Maya noticed the shirt he was wearing. It was Aiji’s, though it was definitely loose enough to be one of Maya’s. The blond pressed the fabric to his nose. _Definitely Aiji’s_ , he smiled. Maya set to work on breakfast with a bubbly sensation in his stomach.

Tired footsteps shuffled into the room when the food was nearly finished. “Morning…” the elder greeted.

“Morning,” the blond smiled back.

Aiji stared at him in sleepy confusion. “Is that my shirt?” Maya nodded with a hum. “I’m never getting that back, am I?”

“Probably not.”

The guitarist sighed softly in defeat. “Whatever. It’s worth it,” he said and kissed the blond on the cheek.


End file.
